


When You're Gone (the Rain Comes Back Again)

by Stucky101



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt Phil Coulson, Hurt Skye | Daisy Johnson, I'm Sorry, Jemma Simmons Needs a Hug, Phil Coulson Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:15:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27120277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stucky101/pseuds/Stucky101
Summary: She didn’t want to die, had never wanted to. Even at the absolute worst points of her life, she had always had hope for a better future. And she had found it; her better future. With Coulson and May and Fitz and Simmons and now with Mack and Bobbi and Hunter and Lincoln.OrLincoln said that holding the monolith open for too long could kill Daisy and I've decided to expand upon that.I'm really sorry...
Comments: 17
Kudos: 66





	When You're Gone (the Rain Comes Back Again)

Daisy caught Lincoln’s worried glance as she prepared herself to open the monolith and sent him a smile in return. It must not have been too reassuring, as he just frowned deeper. Maybe it was the blood still dripping down her face, Daisy decides, wiping yet again at her nose.

Coulson was obviously worried, if his constant fussing over her was anything to go by. Daisy seemed to be the only one not worried, truth be told.

“Close it if you have to. I can’t lose you too,” Coulson’s worry was unnecessary but it felt kind of nice, if Daisy was being honest with herself. She’d never really had people who cared about her before the team, which was why she would do anything to get Simmons back.

She’d been trying her best to play it down, but just hearing the ringing for a few seconds was mind-numbingly painful for her and she wasn’t looking forward to having to hear it again. Lincoln seemed to understand, at least partially, but he didn’t say anything. He definitely looked like he wanted to, however. He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could stop Daisy from doing this, though, so he kept his mouth shut. 

Daisy inhaled deeply and pointed her outstretched arm towards the center of the room. The whole castle shook and she exhaled loosely 

“Sorry,” she offered, “still tuning”.

Shifting her focus back to the black pool of magic rock, Daisy recalled the ringing that had filled her head only moments before and tried to suppress a wince at the sharp sting of the sound. Pushing the vibrations into the monolith, she watched in fascination and horror as the rock turned to liquid, the black pool splashing about in its well-like hole. 

“Keep it open!” suddenly breaks the silence and then Fitz is diving through the portal and Daisy wants to sob.

Something feels so inherently wrong about this and she wants to release her hold on the portal, let the pain in her head fade away, sleep for a hundred years, and never even think about the evil portal rock again. But while she is many things, selfish is not one of them. Simmons is still stuck in an alien world, scared and alone, and now so is Fitz, and if there’s even a tiny chance to help them, Daisy is going to take it. 

She can feel her powers start to take from her to sustain themselves, eating up her energy. She should stop, but in her mind the lives of Fitzsimmons were more important than hers. The pain built up and up as the quakes took more and more out of her and she couldn’t even whisper for help before her legs were collapsing.

Thankfully, Lincoln caught her, lowering her to the floor gently, keeping his hands on her waist. The contact was nice, something to ground her. She couldn’t see anymore, between the pain and the loss of energy. She could barely hear over the intense ringing pounding through her head but she knew she had to. She needed to know when Fitzsimmons were out of the portal, when she could relinquish her hold on the evilness slowly draining the life out of her. 

Finally, after what seemed like ages, she could hear the yells of her friends and the breathing of two more figures.

Releasing the pressure felt amazing but Daisy knew that she had held out for too long. The monolith had drained her too much. She could hear the heavy footsteps she knew belonged to Mack as well as the lighter one’s she recognized as Coulson’s heading to the rim of the well, where Fitzsimmons were bound to be, although she had no idea, having not opened her eyes since she had collapsed against Lincoln. Lincoln stayed with her, even as everyone else rushed to see Fitzsimmons and she sagged against him, hoping he could feel her thankfulness.

She summoned her willpower and managed to drag her eyes open, not surprised to see tears on Lincoln’s face. He wears his heart on his sleeve, same as her, and he understood what was happening. Maybe he could see it on her face or maybe it was that he had a base understanding of the rooting of her powers but he knew all the same.

She didn’t want to die, had never wanted to. Even at the absolute worst points of her life, she had always had hope for a better future. And she had found it; her better future. With Coulson and May and Fitz and Simmons and now with Mack and Bobbi and Hunter and Lincoln. 

She didn’t want to die, no, but she was willing to accept it. Her death meant the return of her friends. Her death meant Jemma was no longer lost and alone and Fitz was no longer without his other half.

“C-can I say goodbye?” she managed to squeeze out, voice so quiet she wasn’t even sure Lincoln heard her until he called out gently,

“Guys,” his voice trembled perilously, “you- you might want to get over here”. They must have heard the fear and sadness in his tone because barely a second passed before Coulson was in Daisy’s line of vision, looking mortified. One by one they all popped into her view, Bobbi appearing right after Coulson, then Mack. Mack took one look at her and walked away. She was confused and hurt for a second, until she heard his deep voice gently telling Fitz that he was going to help him out of the hole. She heard rustling and assumed he was lifting the small brits out of the well and onto the rough stone floor.

“Hey AC,” 

Coulson choked out a “hey” in response and pulled her into his lap softly. She could feel his heartbeat, hear his shuddering breaths. She could tell that he was trying to control his grief for her sake and she wanted to tell him not to, but she didn’t want to waste what little energy she had left. Gentle fingers began to card through her hair and she relaxed further into the fatherly man holding her. He shifted so he was cradling her, hooking an arm under her legs and tucking her head into his shoulder.

She had always longed to be held like this as a child. To be comforted by loving hands, a person who cared about her. 

Fitzsimmons soon arrived, along with Mack, and she summoned a smile.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered, not sure where the energy to speak came from, “I love you guys. I- I don’t think I’ve ever told you that,” there were a million things she’d never told them, that she’d never get to now. 

“Thank you,” was the last thing she could get out, energy spent. 

A sob burst out of Jemma and Fitz gathered her in his arms, turning her head away from the body of their friend.

“And we love you,” Bobbi’s voice broke as she reached out, gently sliding Daisy’s eyes closed.

Coulson barely registered Bobbi and Mack leaving, nor Lincoln pressing a quick kiss to the girl’s temples, just hugged her closer and let the tears fall. 

He shrugged off Macks’ offers to carry her back, wanting to spend every minute he could with her, even though he knows deep down that all he’s holding is a corpse. He sets her down gently in the seat next to him, strapping her in tightly. No one says a word, though he suspects Bobbi wants to. 

“I- I have to call May”. As much as he didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to accept his pseudo daughter’s death, he knew that May deserved to hear it, not to be kept in the dark until she had to see the corpse.

He could hear her voice tremble as he told her the news, which was a testament to just how upset she really was. She was less cautious about her emotions around Coulson and the rest of the team, but she was still very guarded usually and her letting her sadness leak through was an awful sign to him.

When they landed, Coulson unbuckled Daisy and silently slipped an arm under her legs and hooked the other under her shoulder. Her head lolled against his shoulder, not unlike the nights when he found her asleep by her laptop and he carried her to her bed. That was just one of the million ways he was just now realizing he acted like her father. 

He tried to swallow down his tears, but when the thought came that this was the last time he’d ever get to carry her it became a futile endeavor. 

May’s expression of horror and grief hurt his heart even more and he tried not to break down right then and there, in front of many of his agents. But when he reached her room and laid her down on her bunk, the dam broke.

May had followed him and he held onto her tightly, not able to bear the thought of never seeing Daisy in here again. Never see her face transform into a smile again, never see her bouncing her leg up and down to release bottled up energy, never see her giggle uncontrollably at something stupid, never see her looking at him with the purest expression of love when she thought he wasn’t looking at her.

He focused instead on her room. It was cluttered but not too messy and the messiness of it added to the charm. Her laptop sat on her desk, which was mostly well-kept, except for a few pen doodles here and there. There was a small bookshelf near her bed, filled with books neatly marked with lavender post-it notes and dog-eared pages. Her bed proudly presented a white pillow and comforter set, covered in daisies, hand-drawn by Bobbi and Hunter. They had given it to her a couple days after she had announced the name change and he knew it meant a lot to her. There was a photo collage above her bed, filled entirely with candid pictures of her and the team. Fitzsimmons curled up together asleep on the couch, covered in popcorn they’d obviously been throwing at eachother, him in the middle of screaming at May over a board game, her just raising an eyebrow at him coolly, Hunter blinking sleepily at Bobbi over a glass of water as she rolled her eyes at him, Mack petting a kitten he’d found on a mission, his hands comically huge in comparison to its tiny body, Hunter pouting on the couch with Mack yelling at the tv right next to him and Fitz looking proud of himself, all of them holding video-game controllers, Daisy and Simmons both coated in flour, Simmons rolling out cookie dough and Daisy pouring a bag of chocolate chips into her mouth, May smiling evilly, rigging a bucket to a doorframe, he and Daisy curled up together on the couch, The Lion King playing on the tv, tears running down his face and a teasing smile on Daisy’s. 

God he was going to miss her,

He wasn’t sure how to function without her. She was everywhere he looked. Every time he spent more than a few hours on paperwork he half-expected her to be draped on the chair a couple feet away from his desk, whining about him being “anti-social again”. He couldn’t help but to see her on the stool next to May in the mornings, complaining about being up at 5 am and yawning exaggeratedly every few seconds.

He could tell that May saw her ghost everywhere too, from the way she glanced mournfully at the seat next to her at the table after tai chai, from the way she never let anyone sit directly on her right, the spot that had always been Daisy’s, on movie nights. 

Simmons also appeared to see Daisy everywhere, refusing to bake anymore, never watching Daisy’s favorite shows. He knew she felt guilty for being part of the reason she overextended herself and no matter how many times he reassured her that it wasn’t, he knew she would never stop believing it.

Everyone seemed to carry a piece of the blame for her death, him included, and although he knew that wasn’t what she should have wanted, while he knew that it wasn’t the truth, he couldn’t stop.

“Oh, Daisy,” he whispered to the small black box sitting on the desk of Daisy’s old room. They had left her room completely preserved, down to every book, pen, and errant post-it note. It was almost more painful this way but none of them could let her go so her room remained a shrine. 

The decision to give up the chance to have a normal life, to have a daughter of his own, had been made long before he’d met Daisy and he’d looked back often, wishing for things he knew he could never have. Then she came along and filled the gap in his life. She had been a ray of sunshine through every cloudy day, even when everything else looked dire she’d been there. And now she was gone.

He smiled melancholy at the collage on her wall and brushed his fingertips across the daisy-covered comforters where she’d slept just months ago. “What am I supposed to do without my sunshine?” he asked the empty room, a single tear running down his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I'm really sorry about this. I could be convinced to write a happy ending for it though... If you have any requests/feedback I'd love to hear it!


End file.
